“Good thing I’m gonna live forever.”

“No one lives forever, man. I mean, we could . . . we could . . . die like right now, and there’s nothing that we could do about it.”

Q stares at me. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah. No. I mean . . .”

“Because it sorta feels like you wanna say something, and if you need to talk . . .”

I cut in. “I’m okay, Q. It’s not—it’s not me who . . .”

But a shadow blitzes us, leaps onto Q’s back, and then he’s twirling Bri around and around, and she’s wheeeeeeee-ing and singing: “I don’t ever wanna come down! I don’t ever wanna come down!”

“Everything has to, at some point,” I say softly.

“What was that?” Bri asks.

“I said . . . I said . . . we had a fun day at the park.”

“Best day ever,” Bri shouts.

“Best day ever,” Q confirms, spinning her faster and faster, no signs of ever slowing.

39

By the time I pry Bri and Q apart, it’s three in the morning.

“You sure you’re okay to drive, Q?” Autumn asks.

Q glances at her in the rearview. “I feel great. Promise.”

I stare at Q. “You look a little pale.”

Q laughs. “Thanks. I guess I’m a bit queasy, but I’m fine, really.”

And then we’re at Autumn’s car. She hops into the driver’s seat, and I follow.

“Q’s following us, right? Autumn confirms. “You gave him my address?”

“Yep, we’re gonna escort you home, and then I’ll ride with him the rest of the way.”

Fifteen minutes later, Autumn and Q exchange good nights, and then she and I kiss outside her door, and thirty seconds later she’s waving at us through her front window, and then I’m in Q’s car.

“Hey, you checked in with your mom, right?”

“Negatory, my friend. My phone died hours ago.”

“Well, you should’ve borrowed mine.”

“We were having a magical time. Didn’t want to lose our groove, you know. And I did text her earlier.”

“When exactly? And what did you say?”

“I don’t know. Five-ish? Just to let her know I was going to the park after school.”

“Q, maybe she wasn’t expecting you at six or seven or even eight. But it’s three fifteen in the morning!”

Q laughs. “You’re really getting yourself worked up. Stop worrying. Mom will be okay. I mean, she’ll be mad for a day or whatever, but she’ll get over it.”

“I have a feeling this’ll go another way entirely.”

Q laughs. “Oh, you know my mom better than me, huh? It’s fine, man. The world is right.”

I shake my head. “Listen, I know you’re still on the I just made out with an awesome girl high, but you should call your mom. Like now.”